


Liaison

by yesterdaysdreams



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23559187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesterdaysdreams/pseuds/yesterdaysdreams
Summary: With the Chesapeake Ripper case reopened, Jack Crawford is desperate to have all the help he can get, even in the form of Doctor Lecter’s expertise. Agent Starling is named the unofficial liaison officer and she is not happy about it, nor is she particularly impressed by the good doctor himself. Doctor Lecter finds her very fascinating, though. AU. Movies/books/TV show strange mix.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling
Comments: 14
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It so happens that I’m just borrowing these characters from their rightful owners and this story is written for entertainment purposes only. I promise to return them unharmed, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome! Let’s have some fun!

The heavy rain abated a little and Clarice Starling had to face the unavoidable truth; she had no other excuses left. There was no way around it, though she had tried her best to put off the moment she would have to knock on Doctor Lecter’s door as long as possible.

She was in a small cozy cafe on the street where his office was located. Starling needed strong coffee several times a day to function properly, so the cafe had been her first stop – and then it had started raining, giving her another excuse to sit in the warmth and wait. She had spent the past half hour doing nothing else but sending unhappy glances across the street, watching the rain and sipping her coffee.

Her mind was still swirling from the unexpected turn her career took two days ago.

\---

Starling was wary when “The Guru” himself had wanted to speak with her – _immediately_. She met Jack Crawford in the corridors daily and remembered him well enough from his guest lectures at UVA; however, she couldn’t imagine what he could want specifically from her. The head of the Behavioral Sciences Unit did not invite rookie agents in for friendly chats.

“Mr. Crawford, sir… Hello.” She entered his office.

“Ah, Sterling!” He looked up from his papers and motioned her to sit. “Oh, sorry, it’s Starling, right?”

“Yes sir, no problem, sir.”

Starling sat down and watched him. He looked like he usually did – solemn and gray. His hair was salt-and-pepper, his tie grayish blue, and his waistcoat bluish gray. His eyes were dead just as they had been since the moment his wife had passed away.

“You must be wondering why I summoned you here.”

“It crossed my mind, sir.” Starling shrugged a bit. She did appreciate a break from cataloguing new files, of course, but Crawford made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t tell why, it just was; and this whole situation seemed fishy to her – and she relied heavily on her instincts.

“How are you settling in the Bureau? No troubles, I hope?”

“Fine, sir, I’m just fine.”

“Good, glad to hear that, Starling.” He smiled a little and then buried his head in his papers again. “I remember you wanted to get into my department. You still do?”

Starling answered without any doubt, “Very much, sir.”

He grinned, “That’s great, Starling, I’ve kept an eye on you. You’re doing well. In a year or two you could get in here on your own, but I’ve decided to help you along a bit.”

“Well, thank you, sir, but if you don’t mind me asking… Why?”

Crawford chuckled and shook his head: “Oh no, ask, always ask, always question everything. That’s a good thing, Starling. To answer you, I have my reasons.”

He closed the file and pushed it towards her. “Read.”

Starling took it. The first thing she saw was an opened torso with all the insides – outside. Her eyes moved over the picture without flinching for she was aware that Crawford was intensely watching her, gauging her reaction.

After a minute she turned the page and was greeted with a photo of another massacred body. And then, another, and another.

“The Chesapeake Ripper, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you showing me this? It’s a cold case, isn’t it?”

“Get to the end, Starling.”

Calmly, she did and then she halted, eyes widening. There was a _new_ _victim_. With professional interest she read through the new information and then closed the file, carefully putting it on the desk in front of her. Her eyes found Crawford’s.

“How do we know it’s him? It could be a copycat.”

“It’s not, Starling, and that’s why I summoned you here. I want you on my team, working on this case.”

She gazed at him in disbelief.

Rookies are always stuck pushing papers and conducting surveillance in the rain. The lucky ones get their hands on a bit of real work with senior agents. To slog through the groundwork is a slow and painful process, and Starling was just beginning.

“Why me, sir?” It was a logical question.

“You have the right instincts, that’s why.” Crawford took off his glasses and started polishing the lenses. “The only way to sharpen them further is to put them to good use. You could be pushing papers for months and it would get you nowhere. But what I want you to do is to be outside, working on your own and gathering info. You got it?”

“I got it.”

“Good.” He put his glasses back on and harshly added: “Make no mistake; you screw up and you will be pushing papers _for years_. You do well and you have a permanent spot in my department guaranteed.”

“Yes, sir.” Starling nodded and refused to be intimidated by his cold stare.

Now, he smiled and leaned back in his chair, watching her almost fondly: “I remember you, you know, from the UVA seminar. You’ll do well now, too, I’m sure, Starling.”

“I’ll try.” She chuckled a bit.

“All right, back to the point. Have you studied the case?”

“I’ve kept an eye on it as reference material and out of professional curiosity. So, I am familiar with the basic facts.”

“Good, go look at the details, then.” Crawford nodded, pleased. “We haven’t expected him to make an appearance again and after so many years, no less. I hoped he was already rotting away somewhere, but here we are. I trust you know what happened to your predecessor?”

“Predecessor, sir? I thought I would be only assisting?”

“There will be others on the team, of course, but you are a trainee no longer, Starling, you are now a full-fledged investigator. Get used to it.” He looked stern again, though she saw amusement flickering in his eyes. Maybe Crawford wasn’t that bad after all.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Well, do you know what happened to him?”

“He didn’t end up well.” Starling was not a gossip, but from what she had gathered about the legend of the BSU profilers, he hadn’t been exactly stable – and one cold winter morning, Special Agent Will Graham had been found frozen to death on his porch.

“Graham was a genius, Starling, with instincts sharp as a razor.” Crawford frowned a little. “But he had some issues – not that I’m saying anything bad about him, he was a friend, Starling, a very good friend.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Anyway, do you know Doctor Lecter?” He looked uncomfortable when he asked this and his eyes moved round the office as if it was a topic he would rather have avoided.

Starling watched him for a few moments before she very carefully answered: “I have heard of him, but I’ve never met him personally.”

It was a good thing, she supposed, because she was not particularly impressed by what she had heard. Lecter was a brilliant psychiatrist, of course, but a very whimsical person.

“Good.” Crawford nodded to himself and took a deep breath. “I want you to become our liason with the external experts, so you can get the right feel for your work. Your first task is to consult Dr Lecter on the case.”

“Excuse me, sir?” Starling gaped at him a little, but recovered quickly. There were lots of stories going around the Bureau, some of them were concerning The Guru and his absolute dislike for externals in general, and for some names in particular.

“Lecter’s input would be a great asset to us, Starling.” Crawford looked like he had swallowed a bitter pill. “He worked with us in the past, as you know, and he and Graham were very close to solving the Chesapeake Ripper case.”

A beat of silence, then: “I didn’t know that Dr Lecter was back on board, sir.”

She shifted. After Graham’s death, Lecter had stopped actively working with the FBI, even made a fuss about it, too, and, finally, refused to be associated with the BSU in any way as long as Jack Crawford was in charge. Since that unfortunate event, which had delayed several ongoing investigations for which Lecter also had been the other external psychology consultant, Crawford preferred to have his own unit of the best experts available, without the need to rely on anyone outside the BSU.

Now he gave an impression of being in severe pain. “He is not…yet.”

_Oh, great._

\---

“That door must have done something terrible,” said an amused voice above her and Starling looked up to see a man standing close to her table – he stepped even closer so another customer could pass him and head for the exit. He smiled pleasantly and gestured towards the unoccupied chair opposite her.

“Hello. Would you mind if I joined you? It is not my usual _modus operandi_ , one could say, but you look very unhappy about something and I’m afraid I am rather curious by nature.” He had an intense penetrating gaze and intelligent eyes which were studying her closely.

Starling inspected him with the same carefulness; he was heavily built and dressed in a classy dark brown suit with a shirt a shade lighter and a striped tie. His dark hair and smooth face belied his age, though she guessed he was somewhere in his forties or early fifties. In one hand, he held his hat, and his coat was draped over his arm.

She had very little doubt about his identity; though she was a bit unsettled by the fact that she hadn’t noticed him inside the café. He did have a strong presence and she was an FBI agent, for Christ’s sake. She should have spotted him immediately, not given him enough time to observe her sitting there and sending disgruntled glances towards the front door of the building where his office was.

Lecter patiently waited for her permission, which Starling gave a second later with a nod of her head. “Yes, of course, please.”

“Thank you. So, what has that poor door done to you?” He settled down, laying his fedora on the table between them.

Starling knew he knew who she was and that he must have guessed why she was there. She wasn’t trying to conceal her gun holder and the badge on her belt, both visible for anyone who looked for it, and her clothes, a plain two-piece suit, simply screamed ‘government employee on a low salary’. It didn’t take a genius to figure this one out.

“Nothing in particular, I guess.”

“Oh, well, that is a good thing, _I guess_.” He mocked her slightly. “It’s not an easy task to extract revenge from a door, or so I’ve heard. Are you from West Virginia, by any chance?”

Starling’s eyebrows shot up and she couldn’t shake off the feeling he _was_ being contemptuous – not obviously, but she was used to this sort of behavior from some of her rich and city-bred classmates, and some of her colleagues. She tended to ignore it. _Mostly_.

“You have a fine ear for accents.”

“It’s a hobby of mine.” Lecter clicked his tongue, watched her thoughtfully and added: “I am supposedly not bad listener, either. Perhaps you wish to share your troubles with me? Now, if you are thinking why you would do that, let me say it’s sometimes easier to talk to someone unbiased, in other words, a complete stranger. Their insight is usually closer to the true state of things than your own conclusions could ever be.”

“So you’re all ears, right?” Starling asked with amusement. His own statement only reminded her that the good doctor was certainly biased.

“ _Right_.” Now he was imitating her accent completely, the arrogant ass, and he winked, smiling and showing his small, sharp and perfectly white teeth. That smile made her feel very uncomfortable, as if there was something else hidden behind it. It took her a millisecond to pinpoint why – it did not reach his eyes which had a suspiciously calculating gleam in them. In that moment, Lecter reminded her of Crawford and his awkward look when she had been informed of her first task.

Starling suddenly had the unpleasant feeling that she’d been caught in the middle of their petty little tug of war. Dammit, she was _nobody’s_ pawn!

“Well, why not?” She said and looked down into her cup. _Let’s play, then_. The thought was exhilarating, made her blood sing; Starling never backed down, never gave up. She enjoyed the challenges life threw at her, and playing with Lecter was a challenge indeed. She chose her next words carefully:

“It’s this… complicated relationship I’ve suddenly found myself involved in.”

“Yes? Do continue, please.” He encouraged, and when she looked up into his face, she noticed that now he was truly amused, his eyes shining with interest at what else she could come up with. He was enjoying their banter, wasn’t he? She knew she was. It was _fun_.

“Is it a lover’s quarrel?”

“Oh, definitely. Though I should probably say it’s not my relationship, I just got stuck as the go-between.”

“Hmm, interesting. How does it make you feel?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Annoyed, mostly.”

“Understandable.”

“Yes?”

“Very much so. Is that all?”

“It’s rather amusing as well, I think.”

“How so?”

“Two grown people… one would have thought they could solve their differences without dragging others into it. I imagine their conflict could even have a negative impact on their duties for, you see, they are not colleagues exactly, but their cooperation might be needed from time to time. Doesn’t such a behavior strike you as childish and silly?”

His face became impassive after Starling’s first sentence and now he was watching her coldly. It looked like the doctor certainly didn’t like when the tables were turned.

“You possibly cannot be one of Jack Crawford’s, can you?” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure he would have sent some very polite goody-goody who worships the ground he walks on, with very precise instructions _not_ to antagonize me in any way, and yet here you are, insulting us both and with great satisfaction, if I may say so.”

“Is the truth insulting to you in any way?”

This time it was Starling who narrowed her eyes and they measured each other for a second. Something in his look shifted dangerously and her heart was suddenly frantically beating; she felt threatened but couldn’t logically explain _why_. It was as if her instincts were screaming at her to back off, to shut the hell up, to run.

“You are a very frank person, Agent, so allow me to be frank, too. It is not about what you think to be the truth; that is your personal opinion to which you are entitled by the law, and according to the law, you can speak it freely. Whether you should do it or not, well…it is not just the way you present it that is lacking…actually, the fact you are presenting it at all is what I find insulting. Someone of your age and station is in no position to be passing judgments on those superior to them.”

Lecter leaned over the table, so he could lower his voice and whisper:

“It’s very rude and discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me.”

“I am not passing judgments on Mr. Crawford, or you, Doctor Lecter.”

“No? And pray tell, what were you doing, then?” He clicked his tongue again and watched her as a hunter might watch his prey.

“I apologize for giving that impression, sir.” Starling cast her eyes down momentarily and then looked up at him again. Lecter was unmoved by her apology. She could feel her cheeks turning red, though not in embarrassment. “It was an observation. You are right, Doctor, that it might have been said too bluntly, but haven’t you said it yourself? Aren’t unbiased third party’s insights closer to the true state of things than conclusions of a party involved could ever be?”

Doctor Lecter sat there unblinking for a short moment, simply looking at her as if he suddenly saw her in entirely different light, but then shook his head. “Now you have my attention, Agent. May I see your credentials?”

Starling passed her ID to him while trying to appear unconcerned. The searching gaze made her feel even worse for she did not know what he’d been looking for and what he had found.

“The ink on this hasn’t even dried yet, so to speak, Agent Starling.” He observed. “Crawford sent a rookie to _me_?”

“I graduated recently, yes.”

Lecter looked, if she could voice her own observation, both extremely annoyed and offended, though she was not sure what was more galling to the doctor. Was he offended by the idea of Crawford sending him nothing more than a rookie, or annoyed by the fact that the rookie had outsmarted him?

“What does he hope to achieve, anyway? I made myself perfectly clear eight years ago, although I could reaffirm my statement just for you: I still do not wish to cooperate with his unit in the foreseeable future.”

“He wanted me to try, sir, so here I am.” Starling shrugged, her heart finally slowing. The expression on Lecter’s face shifted then from dangerously pissed off into stonily disinterested. Disinterested was good, this expression was not making her feel like she was about to be eaten alive.

“Your attempt is the feeblest I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid you have a lot to learn about the real and ugly world of FBI politics if you wish to succeed.”

She had the audacity to grin and say unconcernedly: “It seems so. I do keep stepping on people’s toes quite regularly.”

Lecter looked at her pensively and after few moments he smiled lazily. “Yes, and you find it very funny, am I right?”

“Everyone needs to have fun from time to time, Doctor.” Starling answered carefully and was dumbfounded at the speed of Lecter’s mood changes, for now he appeared amused again and pleasantly surprised no less. Whimsical as hell, wasn’t he?

“Yes, I quite agree with you on that.”

He was watching her, studying her curiously. It would have been flattering if it wasn’t creepy. Starling was more than happy when a discreet beeping sound caught his attention and forced him to fish out his phone. He looked at the time and then clicked his tongue, _again_. It was obviously a habit of his, though every time he did it, Starling caught a different meaning behind the sound. This time he was regretful and his next words confirmed it:

“I’m afraid I have to go, Agent Starling. My six o’clock appointment awaits.”

“Of course, I don’t want to detain you, Doctor, I’m sorry.”

Lecter got up and put on his coat, smoothing the lapels and grinning at her, “So, you do have some manners after all, Agent Starling. Good to know.”

“What can I say? Some of my teacher’s preaching must have stuck.”

“I took the liberty to settle your bill, if you don’t mind. It was an interestingly refreshing chat we had, wasn’t it? It would be fun to do it again, wouldn’t you agree?” Lecter smiled fondly at her. “And now, I feel obliged to strongly suggest one thing. Fly back to Quantico, little Starling, this part of the city has recently experienced an increase in crime rates, it’s not safe after sunset anymore… even for F-B-I agents.”

She knew he drawled the words ‘FBI’ to show his utter distaste for the institution, yet he still managed to exclude her from the statement by a single look, as if he didn’t consider her part of the Bureau.

“Thanks, Doctor Lecter.” It was a sound warning, though.

“Ta-ta.” The doctor winked and smiled at her broadly. Then he politely nodded goodbye, and, putting his hat on, strolled out into the rain.

Starling watched him cross the street and then disappear. It could have gone better, she mused; however, she could not suppress the inexplicable relief she felt at his departure and her own failure in getting his assistance. Maybe it was a bit selfish of her, and she was certain she should be ashamed, but she didn’t want to interact with that man again, despite his charismatic smile and charming voice, something about him was making her tense and uneasy. Never mind the thrill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapters of this were written back in 2014 when I was a stressed-out college student. Life happens and it’s only now that I have enough time to come out of my writing retirement, repost the story here and then continue and actually get to the end. Thank you for reading… Ta-ta.


	2. Chapter 2

“Crawford.” He picked up the phone and stuck it between his ear and shoulder, then reached for his coffee. In his other hand he was holding Starling’s report from Friday informing him of her failure in getting Lecter’s help. He was strangely relieved that the doctor refused to take any part in the investigation. It was a loss, professionally, though Crawford was still glad he would not be dealing with the man on a daily bases, as was Starling, he was sure.

“Well, hello, Jack.” The voice sounded mocking, just as he remembered Lecter sounding in the final days of their cooperation, if he could call it that.

“Doctor Lecter.” Crawford sat up straighter and put down his coffee mug. Fortunately, he hadn’t been swallowing the very hot liquid. He didn’t fancy having his shirt stained and skin burnt, nor did he wish to choke.

“Are we going to be so formal, Jack? You wound me. How are you these days, anyway? I’ve heard about dear Bella, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lecter. What can I do for you?” He said this through clenched teeth. Lecter mentioning his dead wife made Crawford’s blood boil. He had no right to talk about her.

“Funny, here I thought it was the other way around. What can I do for you, hmm? Your birdie found me three days ago. Interesting little pet you have there.”

“Agent Starling reported you didn’t wish to work with us.”

“Oh, I am afraid I might have left her with that impression, yes. But I was in a bit of hurry, you see, and that’s the reason why I’m calling you now, to correct the misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” Crawford huffed and found the precise wording in the report. “You said ‘I still do not wish to cooperate with his unit in the foreseeable future’, Doctor. Seeing as this is my unit _still_ , what changed your mind?”

“I’m impressed; your birdie remembered it word for word and put it in her report like a _good little girl._ ” Now the doctor was imitating Starling’s accent and Crawford felt a strong urge to slam the receiver down. Lecter could have Baltimore high society and all of his esteemed colleagues fooled with his silver tongue and perfect manners, but Crawford had had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing his mocking, spiteful and vicious side. He could dissect people with words easily, though that was all he could do. He was all bark and no real bite.

“You have problems with me, Doc, I get it, though why are you insulting that kid is beyond me.”

“Feeling protective of her, aren’t we?” Lecter chuckled on the other side. “Don’t even think I don’t know why you sent her to me, Jack. I see right through you. It’s the Chesapeake Ripper again, isn’t it? Still alive and kicking? I’ve read the papers and noticed the tell-tale signs.”

“We found another body, yes.”

“And you need me to catch him.”

“I need an external consultant to help on the case. Doctor Bloom is next on my list.” He informed him tersely.

“She will be _so_ happy to hear from you.”

“That’s why I’m sending Starling.”

“Tsk tsk, Jack. Another lamb to be sacrificed? Wasn’t Will enough for you?” The last sentence was said coldly.

“I’m not going into this again, Doctor.” Crawford briefly closed his eyes and forced out in a polite tone, “Now, if you would tell me what I can do for you…”

Lecter was silent for a few seconds and then he brusquely ordered: “Send your birdie to me with the updated case file and tell her to pack the things she will need for a few days. I’m taking her on a field trip, or should I say she is taking me? I want to see the crime scene, the body, talk with the witnesses, everything. And I want her to play the guide. Give her all the credentials needed. I need full access and full cooperation.”

“Now, now, Doctor…”

“You want my expertise? I want her to be the go-between. I don’t like your methods, Jack, or your bunch of fumbling lackeys, and if you insist on endangering another promising mind, I have no other choice but to make sure you won’t get that mind killed before it reaches its full potential.”

“So, you’re with us again, Doc?”

“For the time being, yes. Please, do tell Agent Starling not to be tardy and to actually come through my door this time if possible. I shall be waiting for her at four this afternoon. Goodbye, Jack.”

Crawford was more than simply stunned after the line went silent. He slowly put down the receiver and shook his head. Lecter had hung up on him in annoyingly polite way, which was not entirely surprising. Crawford was rather speechless after their conversation – the first in the last eight years, no less.

Starling must have left quite the impression. What had he called her, ‘A promising mind’? He chuckled a bit and stood up, heading for her desk.

He found his rookie agent hunched over a big, and by the look of it, messy pile of paperwork in great need of organizing, which she was bravely attempting to do. Yes, Starling was just like this – doing what needed to be done without much of a fuss. Practical and steady, much like Crawford himself.

“Starling? Hello.”

“Hello, sir.” She looked up, surprised, and put down the papers she was holding. “Do you need something?”

“Doctor Lecter’s just called. What the hell did you say to him, Starling?”

“I might have been… frank.” She looked away and unsuccessfully tried to stop several papers from falling to the floor. She bent for them and Crawford watched her now pink face reappear above her desk.

“You insulted him, in other words.”

“He looked a bit offended, yes.”

“Good, Starling.” He grinned at her disbelieving expression. “Whatever you did, you did it right, because he is willing to assist us. He wants to see the crime scene and body and he wants you to tag along and smooth things over with the locals.”

Starling gave a strained smile: “Wouldn’t a senior agent be the better choice, sir? I haven’t had the opportunity to poke around crime scenes much, and the local sheriff office would surely expect someone older… to boss them around.”

Crawford saw right through her. She didn’t have any problems with handling the local authorities; she would take that in stride. It was Lecter she had a problem with. Crawford could sympathize with her so he felt compelled to lift her mood a bit.

“Consider it a baptism by fire, Starling, because with Doctor Lecter in the countryside, you will be smoothing lots of ruffled feathers. Look at it as an opportunity to learn from the master. Lecter is an arrogant ass – you never heard me say that – but he is good at what he does.” He shrugged and took her by the elbow, leading her away from her desk. “Now, Starling, we need to focus on…”

\---

Starling was packed in 20 minutes and by four in the afternoon she was ready to knock on Lecter’s office door in Baltimore. They were heading down to Reedville, so why had he insisted she needed to come up here? She had gone from displeased to angry and finally resigned in the course of the past several hours and now that she was standing there, she was beginning to feel excitement coursing through her body, her heart pumping almost painfully. Meeting Lecter made her feel like this, like facing danger, and the case they were working on was a high profile one, which only added to the sensation of challenge. She was beginning to enjoy the thrill of the hunt more and more with each day spent in the FBI.

Before she could raise her hand to knock, the door opened and Lecter stood there, smiling pleasantly down at her. He was so uncomfortably close that she caught a whiff of his strong cologne while his eyes roamed over her, as if he could hear her heartbeat and smell her feelings of half- fear and half-exhilaration. He bowed his head a little.

“Good afternoon, Agent Starling, I’m so glad you managed to be on time. It won’t take long, do come inside, please.” He stepped aside, letting her pass. Breathing deeply as she stepped past him, he closed the door behind her.

“Hello, Doctor.”

His office was spacious and decorated in soothing subdued colors with a distinctively masculine feel, the furniture was antique and expensive looking and the whole place appeared to be inviting both patients and guests to make themselves comfortable. Not Starling, though.

“Do you approve of my working space, Agent? Or would you change it somehow?” He was right behind Starling, following in her wake as she moved further into the room.

“It’s very nice, Doctor, though I can’t imagine myself truly relaxing in here.” She ignored the impulse to turn or move away, to show any discomfort. She rarely allowed anyone to get behind her.

“Oh, and why is that?” Lecter clicked his tongue curiously and moved towards his large writing desk. There he picked up a thick envelope, his eyes never fully leaving Starling, watching her with a small smile gracing his lips. “Be frank… although if you manage not to insult me this time, I would be thankful.”

Starling looked at him. The doctor was dressed in light colors today; light blue suit, white shirt, pearly white waistcoat and shade deeper blue pocket square and tie. He strangely fit into the inside of his domain, he was part of it – very stylish and very pleasing to the eye, though both the owner of the office and the place itself lacked something vital.

She smiled tightly and turned, her gaze wandering around the room, gliding over the books and the paintings. Lecter studied her avidly as she spoke.

“Your office is very tasteful, very immaculate – everything has its place, doesn’t it, Doctor? – and very, very impersonal. It’s cold and empty, devoid of life. It lacks warmth… soul.” Starling turned back to him with her last words and even though it was not her intention, her eyes probably gave away her innermost thoughts. “I guess it’s all right, though. It’s only an office.”

“That is so very true, Agent Starling.” Lecter nodded with unreadable look in his face, for a second something flickering behind his eyes. Starling’s heart slowed down in that moment and the fear she felt in Lecter’s presence lessened. The exhilaration stayed on the same level, though.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took it upon myself to plan our little excursion to Reedville. Must be a truly remarkable little town, don’t you think? All those fishing boats, how quaint! We will be taking my car.” He smiled then and slipped the envelope into his pocket, crossing to the coat-stand.

He was mocking the poor little town for sure and yet Starling found herself chuckling slightly. Lecter and small towns appeared to be incompatible.

“It would make more sense to meet up in Washington.” She watched him put on his coat and hat and smooth out the non-existent wrinkles.

Lecter winked at her: “It would, if I had wished to save time. I do not. I want to share my thoughts concerning the Chesapeake Ripper with you and then treat you to dinner. Something much more palatable then you are probably used to, Agent Starling. Would you amuse me on this?”

“You really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you, Doctor?” Starling shook her head, more amused than insulted, and joined him by the door. She wanted to see those notes. “Why not, Doctor, sure. Lead the way.”

He opened the door for her and with his hand on the small of her back, followed her out. Starling tried not to flinch, much. She was not a very tactile person unlike most of the people she met, Doctor Lecter, unfortunately, included. Funny, she wouldn’t have guessed he was that sort of person.

“On the contrary, Agent Starling, my opinion of you is quite high. It’s your tastes I doubt.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, sir… a very backhanded one, though. What else do you doubt about me?”

The good doctor chuckled as he locked his office. She couldn’t help but notice how many locks he had and how sturdy the door was. Her mind had started to analyze him, she recognized that now, and it was a process she did not wish to stop.

“The company you keep, Agent Starling, however, that is to be expected. You are young and easily influenced; it will take some time before you learn how to…filter your acquaintances. Keeping the bearable around, and disposing of the rest.”

The way he said it, the tone and timbre of his voice and the click of his tongue against his teeth made chilled Starling. They stopped outside the building, she could see the café where they had met across the street, and she turned to face the doctor who was standing behind her, trying to locate his car keys somewhere in the pockets of his coat.

“I don’t feel like leaving my car here, Doctor.”

“Naturally, you can follow me and then leave it in my garage if you would like. Actually, that would be for the best, I think.”

With these words, he walked up to a sleek black Jaguar with shiny silver wheels. Of course, she should have expected something like that, the car matched him perfectly– extravagant enough to catch attention and yet maintain a sense of superior tastes.

It was easy to follow such a car and Starling was enjoying her last moments of peace as much as she could. Without Lecter’s presence the whole situation felt normal and routine and she relished these feelings. _Just drive, girl_ was what Delia would say and that was what Starling did. She tried not to think about what the future had in store for her and how uncomfortable the following few days were going to be.

She let her mind wander and it wandered straight to the driver of the car in front of her. Lecter, apart from his tongue clicking habit, obviously liked to have control over any situation he found himself in, always assuming the role of leader and provider. Aside from this quirk, his heavily secured door and the fact that he never fully turned his back to her, keeping her in his line of vision all the time, spoke volumes.

He was very cautious and precise, distrustful of others, and presenting the image of a perfect but slightly eccentric gentleman to the world. Meanwhile, inside, lurked someone entirely different, someone cold and very much…damaged. Lecter was not all that she had thought him to be. She perceived him as a threat, and she could not and would not change her opinion after these observations, but why would he see her in the same way? She tensed momentarily and then relaxed again.

Lecter stopped in front of a big old brick house in an upper-class section of the city and Starling shook her head to shake off all those ridiculous thoughts. Sometimes she was dumbfounded by the observations that her mind presented her with.

The white gate leading underground opened and the doctor blinked his lights at her. Starling took the hint and carefully parked inside his unnecessarily oversized and brightly lit garage. He followed, successfully blocking her exit.

Sliding the strap of her briefcase over her right shoulder, she got out of her car while he moved around his. Meanwhile, the gate was closing and Starling refused to feel caged and intimidated. Her instincts agreed that it was not the best course of action.

“This way, please.” The doctor gestured towards an inconspicuous door in the wall. He took her by the elbow, bringing her closer, and unlocked it, revealing a dark staircase leading upstairs into the house. He flicked the lights on, “After you.”

Starling started to climb up, while Lecter locked the heavy door behind them again. The stairs led to yet another locked door. He leaned over, unlocked it and pushed it open, giving her a small smile.

“Beware of the _cold_ , Agent Starling, it could settle into your very bones.” Lecter warned her in a grave voice, eyes shining with amusement. _If he can joke, I can relax a bit_ , she decided.

“I’ll survive, Doctor.” She stepped into the entrance hall, observing through stained glass the outside world, where streetlights were beginning to come to life. Lecter switched on the lights in the whole house and steered her towards his library. His house wasn’t cold inside, not in the usual sense – it just felt cold, exactly like his office did. Everything was spotless, polished and perfect. She shivered.

“Soulless, isn’t it?”

“Did I manage to insult you again, Doctor Lecter?”

“You meant no harm, I hope, Agent Starling.” He reached his large writing desk, which strongly resembled the one in his office, and opened the top drawer. “I don’t feel offended in any way… this time. Your frankness is truly refreshing. I cannot recall meeting anyone as open as you are and I am willing to admit that my office and my house are both a bit on the more impersonal side, or so it would seem to someone such as you.”

Starling moved closer – the doctor’s library contained much more books than his office did, and less paintings and furniture. The color scheme was the same, though; deep brown, deep red, contrasting with a white floor and marble fireplace.

“Such as me? Have you been analyzing me, Doctor?”

She had no doubt he had been doing exactly that. It was a professional failure; neither of them could stop it. They studied each other critically and Starling was shocked to feel her mouth twitching. Lecter maintained a serious expression a minute longer, but the moment she burst out laughing, he broke and cracked a smile.

“Very much so.”

“Have I passed?”

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” The words rang in the quiet room with a steely undertone. Starling nodded and finally stepped in front of his desk and gazed at him.

“So…”

“Yes, Agent Starling?”

“You were about to tell me the results, Doctor Lecter.”

“Was I? Is it just me, or are you starting to feel relaxed in my cold and soulless home?”

“It looks like it, right?”

“Oh yeah, _right_.”

The accent imitation, again. Lecter had the gall to grin at her and Starling did not feel offended this time. It was strange; his smile made her nervous, his proximity was uncomfortable and yet she was not as tense as she had been only minutes ago… as if something had shifted in their interactions and she could not pinpoint what and when – she could only guess the why. Maybe it was because she was inside of his home?

“I’m more curious if you tried to analyze me, Agent Starling.”

“Oh, I analyzed you, Doctor Lecter, don’t worry about that.”

Lecter caught her eyes and they stared at each other cautiously. Starling noticed then that the fear had left her completely. The changes taking place in the dynamics of their interaction were so sudden, so enormous, that she just was not able to keep a track of them.

She had discovered something that nobody knew, because nobody had looked, everyone believed nothing was amiss. This must be the reason why he was so wary of her – he was unable to mask his damage from her prying eyes. This must be the reason why Starling had been afraid of him, too. He looked and he saw. He knew.

Both of them were _hunters_ , their instincts sharp as a razor. They needed to be wary of each other, just like predators in the wild are when they meet. She could never know when or if he would attack… though something was telling her he would not, at least not now.

His eyes were reflecting her thought perfectly. It felt as if she had known him for ages.

“Yes, it does.” He showed his teeth in a small smile. “And yes, I’m afraid you did say it aloud, Agent Starling.”

“I guess so.” She grimaced and searched for words that would not embarrass her further. “I have to confess – you saved me from paperwork that would have lasted me years.”

“Jack is unbearable but he can recognize talent – he will try to test you in another challenge soon.” The doctor pursed his lips in distaste. He didn’t like the current conversation topic that was obvious. Of course, his distaste for Mr. Crawford was well known.

“You would pass the test. He would find another and another, making you the perfect bloodhound, the hunter of serial killers. One day, he would set you a challenge you would not be able to pass and your dead body would be found somewhere in a ditch, or on your own porch.”

Starling shifted uncomfortably, Lecter’s eyes were solemn and pitying and she didn’t like his tone, not one bit. It was sometimes truly frightening how easily she could guess the thoughts and motives of others and see the paths their minds were taking, the patterns in behavior nobody else could trace.

“Are you talking about me or Will Graham, doctor?” She asked. They’d been close friends, or so she heard.

“You are all the same to Jack.”

“And for you, Doc?”

Lecter looked down and searched his desk. When he looked up again, his face was void of any emotion and he gave her a thick folder from inside of his drawer.

“You can go through it before dinner, Agent Starling. I shall be in the kitchen, should you need me for anything. Please, make yourself comfortable.” With these words, the doctor rose from his seat and passed her, disappearing into the hallway.

_In the kitchen?_ The man’s going to cook himself? She watched the door for a second, unbelieving. Some rumors in the Bureau were also suggesting that the friendship between Graham and the doctor was not just friendly.

Better to focus on the work ahead, though. Starling shook her head, banishing the imagine of Doctor Lecter in a frilly apron, and looked around, finally deciding to settle in front of the fireplace on a sofa probably more expensive than all the furniture she owned.

In a matter of seconds she found herself engrossed in Lecter’s notes written all over the copies of crime scenes photos. Comments like: ‘ _impatient today?_ ’, ‘ _unusually sloppy_ ’ or ‘ _mocking Uncle Jackie, aren’t we?_ ’ were quite common and looking at the photos with these words in mind, she could truly see it; tiny little things giving her another perspective, pointing out what others missed. Lecter had a morbid sense of humor and an eye for details.

It didn’t help her to relax further on _his_ sofa in _his_ home – her gaze strayed once or twice towards the heavy door and she could not suppress the feeling of uneasiness. She knew she should be cautious, she should fear him. They were too much alike not to.


	3. Chapter 3

With Starling safely occupied with his notes, Lecter headed into the kitchen, shed his jacket and left it on one of his chairs. Carefully, he slipped his favorite knife from his left sleeve into his pocket. He then rolled up his sleeves, put on his favorite apron and crossed to the fridge, where he selected the pre-packaged ingredients he would need; the doctor had thought of today’s menu with great care in advance.

There was a little smile gracing his features and a pleased spark lightening his eyes.

It truly felt as if they had known each other for ages. Of course, Lecter knew why, unlike his little birdie guest. Humming, he unpacked a large package of red meat, put it on the cutting board and selected one of the knives on the worktop.

The good doctor hadn’t had any specific plans for the weekend, so there hadn’t been any problems in changing them. What a delightful two days it had been: he had enjoyed Agent Starling’s company and gotten to know her rather well. Of course, it would be a shame for a trained agent not to notice she had been followed, watched and examined with the utmost care, and yet Lecter was not truly surprised that she had not – if he did not count how frequently she had looked over her shoulder with a small frown. He was very inconspicuous if he desired it and he had kept the proper distance after all.

Doctor Lecter had stopped being content with his life on more than one level and after long months of careful consideration he had decided to do something about it – that something consisting of calling on his old acquaintance Jackie in Lecter’s own unique way. After that little stunt of his, Providence had brought him someone unexpectedly special – Clarice Starling with all of her blunt honesty and brilliant intelligence. He was still surprised how the little birdie suddenly fitted into his schemes, how all of his discontent was eased just by the simple act of ruffling her feathers a bit.

He sliced the meat.

The doctor felt certain that he was able to fake friendship easily, though a live demonstration was needed from time to time, to make sure he truly kept his role perfect. Lecter had been unpleasantly surprised, when he had been forced to acknowledge the simple truth; he was not _lonely_ , _per se_ , he was just feeling a little detached from humanity in general and he recognized that as an error, a blind spot in his otherwise flawlessly constructed image of life. This was unacceptable and in need of correcting. Or so he had believed; he had his acquaintances and colleagues and a fair share of occasional romantic interests that never lasted long, but the human disposition for sharing something deeper with someone who was thinking at least partly along the same lines that he had observed in his patients had awakened, even within him, some sort of an irrational longing for true companionship. He was a loner, always had been and had thought he always would be. The lack of human contact had never bothered him – until now.

The knife in Lecter’s hand stilled. For someone such as him, finding friends was a little problematic for obvious reasons and he recognized the risks of trying to befriend Starling almost immediately. Yet he could not settle for anything less than Starling, for anything less exciting and risky.

_What an enthralling little thing she is,_ he conceded with a chuckle. Agent Starling was so much fun – the thrill she presented, the challenge. She had brought him unexpected excitement, a pleasurable twist to his cat and mouse game he had started with Jack. For that alone she deserved her fine dinner.

Doctor Lecter switched the tune and started to hum a song he had discovered she liked. He had been rather busy in the last two days – that was very true. Starling was amusing, yes, and she was dangerous or at least could turn to be very dangerous very quickly so he’d paid her special attention and studied her reactions and habits carefully.

In some ways, she reminded him strongly of Will Graham – his previous attempt to understand the human need for friendship. Eight years ago, Lecter had been simply curious and Will had been his little experiment which had backfired spectacularly, with results equaling zero. It had been fun and the doctor had needed to use all of his masks and learned patterns of friendly behavior to fool Graham, yet when his dear ‘friend’ had realized that Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper, the doctor hadn’t felt any remorse or much of anything while he had been disposing of Will. His therapy had been going nowhere, anyway; Graham had been broken beyond repair and that might have been the reason for Lecter’s failure in the experiment.

Starling was not broken and had the same instincts Will had had and the doctor himself treasured. That only added to her value and Lecter was rather determined to keep her close for more observations and interactions. Unlike Graham and like Lecter, she was not afraid of what she was; she’d embraced this part of herself years ago. Starling was a hunter, she thought like one and acted like one.

_Oh, well._ He chuckled silently, the tune cut short. Truth to be told, Starling was like a little lion cub, testing her claws and learning how to run, how to stalk her prey and how to go for a kill, but it was all in there and she accepted it every single day again and again, growing slowly surer of herself and her prowess. Much better than Will who had been scared of the power of his own mind and had tried so hard to repress it, to get rid of what nature had given him.

With time and proper – _his_ – mentoring, Starling would reach her full potential and truly become worthy of keeping around. She had appeared during the time Lecter had contemplated his lack of friends, fitting precisely into the empty slot, and if friendship consisted at least partly of the talks they had had, Starling would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

Lecter nodded to himself, smiling a little, and put the knife away and reached for the spices. He would make sure that Starling would not shrink away from what she was no matter what, and whatever she could become in the future. He disliked failure, his own failure, and did not wish to let this experiment to end without the desired results, even more so when he had decided he did not wish to only understand friendship, he wished to obtain it and only in the form of Clarice Starling.

_Maybe I_ _’m getting whimsical in my old age._ The good doctor chuckled again and clicked his tongue. He certainly felt restless enough to tickle Uncle Jack, but he had every right to be as whimsical as he wished; Lecter always did as he pleased. His humming started anew and the small smile never left his lips.

An hour later, dinner was ready and the table set.

Lecter replaced his apron with his jacket and found his way back into the library.

Agent Starling was sitting on his sofa with feet curled next to her. She must have lit the fire for its heat hit him in waves as he stepped inside and a quick glance towards the fireplace confirmed it. He remained by the door and silently watched her. She had shed her coat and jacket, as well as her shoes, and was completely transfixed by the case file. The doctor nodded, pleased and smug, and continued to observe her for a few more seconds – it was becoming quite natural to simply watch her and catalogue her movements and store them inside his memory palace. He had had a new room built just for her and was happy how nicely it was filling up.

“Hello again, Agent Starling.” Lecter said quietly and a broad roguish grin appeared on his face when she jumped. For all her previous caution and fear in his company, she was letting her guard slip a lot.

“Doctor Lecter! Hi.” She sat straighter and put her feet back to the ground, smiling a little sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Nonsense, I see you are feeling comfortable and you’ve started to fight the cold. It is me who must apologize for disturbing you. You did look quite immersed in my notes, my dear. Do you find it suitable light reading right before the dinner?”

He gave her a wry smile and carefully moved closer, inhaling in the scents hanging in the warm air between them. He had to say, her perfume was rather pleasant when mixed with the natural fragrance of her skin. The feelings of fear which he had smelled earlier had completely disappeared to his great satisfaction – he did not wish to scare the little cub away. Time for testing her would come later.

Starling’s reply was a dry chuckle and a nod while she put her shoes on. “It’s a good read, Doctor, though I would not call it light reading precisely.”

“Hmm, I’m sorry, Agent Starling, I didn’t think of how it could ruin your appetite, how inconsiderate of me. Could you manage to eat, or should we wait a little while?” Lecter arched an eyebrow at her, wondering. Maybe he could test her, only a little, though.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, not a squeamish sissy.” She slowly got up and put the papers on Lecter’s tasteful dark coffee table. “Lead the way; I’m hungry and pretty curious about what you’ve produced. Your dinner parties are famous, sir.”

“You did your homework, Starling.”

“You bet, Doctor.”

“Shall we, then?” Lecter offered her his arm and smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling. Starling did not like to touch and be touched by people, very much as he disliked physical contact with others, but it was very amusing to watch her try not to flinch and appear as polite as possible. Lecter had managed over the years to overcome this particular flaw and he was certain that Starling would do so, too.

She took his arm and he could feel her stiffen first and then relax again as he guided her towards his dining room.

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Starling’s eyes going wide for a second at the colorful table scheme, before she gingerly settled down on the edge of her chair and started to eat. The good doctor poured her a glass of wine, served a delicate meat and a lot of vegetables and managed to refrain from needling her about the unhealthy, unpalatable and unappetizing food he had witnessed her consume during the weekend. She would probably not appreciate the comments, and he would not be able to explain how exactly he knew her usual habit of eating those… frozen products. It was certainly not something he was willing to call food.

“I trust you have the updated file for me, Agent?” The doctor asked few minutes later and his eyes twinkled at her as he gave her a small, crooked smile. She managed to stomach the ugly pictures, yes. How would she fare with a bit of light conversation about their work?

“Of course, Mr. Crawford took extra care with your copy, sir.”

“Did he? I’m touched. Anyway, had you enough time to familiarize yourself with the case? Or do you need me to go over it with you? The Chesapeake Ripper is not an easily forgettable case, it’s never fully left my mind.”

“Yeah, I know the case just fine.”

“ _Yeah?_ ” Lecter could not stop himself from imitating her. It was not only Starling’s accent, but the way she articulated even her interjections that was impressively unique. Not to mention the expressions she made every time he imitated her.

Starling’s lips twitched and she gave him an annoyed look, then she took a sip from her glass of wine. Lecter hadn’t touched his yet.

“Why do you think the Ripper’s started again?”

Starling frowned, looking up and her eyes flashed briefly, the thoughts in her clever mind swirling. It was captivating watching her thought process. And the conclusions she drew just like that, the jumps? Brilliant, her mind was brilliant and Lecter wanted to dissect it, to understand, to make sure it would never be turned against him.

“It’s obvious he doesn’t like Mr. Crawford much. Must be personal for him… well, it’s personal for both of them, I guess.” Starling slowly said and nodded to herself. Her gaze shifted to Lecter who gave her a curt nod. “The Ripper likes to ridicule him, taunt him. I think he just got bored and decided to play with us anew.”

“Just play with you?” Lecter asked neutrally.

Starling sharply inhaled and the good doctor froze for one miniscule moment. She had caught the pronoun he had used – not _us_ , but _you_. The agent looked into his face, her gaze fluttered between his eyes.

_Does she see all the little crumbles leading straight to me?_ For Lecter, it was very obvious – but of course, he was scrutinizing his own actions from all possible angles. He knew it was only a matter of time until he would be caught – by someone special as Starling, or by sheer dumb luck on Jack’s part. He had numerous escape routes and several personas prepared well in advance.

“He dislikes the FBI almost as much as you do.” She shrugged then and the tense moment passed. He could swear that some very, very dangerous flag flared red in her mind, but she’d chosen to ignore it. Her instincts were sharp but she did not trust them enough yet.

“What is there to like? Superiors like Krendel or the _short_ working hours? Not to mention the money.” Lecter asked innocently and lifted his glass to his lips. However, he did not take a sip. “Not my cup of tea, if I may say so, Agent Starling.”

She was grinning slightly, though the smile was cold when Krendler’s name was mentioned. The doctor stored this information with interest and smiled back, inhaling happily; Starling’s scent was reaching him only slightly, but her hidden anger was sweet. He could work with anger. Anger was good, anger had driven him when everything else had failed – not the hot burning rage that makes people do foolish things, but the cold, controlled fury, coiled and ready to strike in the least expected moment. She had such fury and it was singing in her veins.

“Anyway, as you will see, the newest victim was just a grand invitation for us to play with him. He was flaunting, challenging us. Good knife work, thought.”

Lecter was amused by her last remark and lifted eyebrows at her. “Pardon me? Are you truly complimenting the Chesapeake Ripper’s skills with blade?”

“Credit where credit is due. Why not? It is pretty damn impressive.”Starling chuckled and then sobered. “He is just showing off how good he is. That’s the reason why he is doing it. The bodies are carefully crafted gifts, wrapped and sent with care, the ones he wants us to _notice_. I’ve read up on the victims, and quite frankly, it’s no loss for society to be rid of pedophiles and murder or embezzlement suspects. He slaps us in our faces, saying he does our job better than us. It’s most probably the biggest reason he does it – simply to insult the Bureau and point out the incompetence of the system. I wonder how many people he’s killed and hasn’t bothered to ‘send’.”

_Tons of rude little pests._ Lecter almost smiled fondly, pleased by her sincere compliment and the perfect understanding. He had worked with the utmost care when slicing his ‘gifts’ and always had taken long in selecting the special cases he would put on display. He contently looked at Starling. _Clever girl. Does this mean I can check off the_ _“mutual interests_ _”_ _check-box?_

“Why would he kill and not… flaunt it, as you say?”

“Well, you see, Doctor… The Ripper is picky. The victims insult his delicate sensibilities more than others do, so they get the special treatment. I bet there are lots of thugs who are just… annoying. They are like animals for him and he simply doesn’t bother. It’s like squashing a mosquito.” Starling blinked and focused on the last piece of meat on her plate, looking at it thoughtfully. She forked it and lifted up, carefully examining it.

The good doctor focused his attention solely on her while the minutes passed. His mind was providing him with amusing scenarios of the two of them sharing an entirely different meal, with an entirely different kind meat on Starling’s fork. He almost chuckled. _Unlikely_.

“Of course, he needs to kill more than once in few months, or years, as it appears. He eats them and he does it regularly.” Came her final answer and Starling blinked once more and smiled grimly at him. “Never crossed your mind, Doctor?”

Lecter’s face was carefully expressionless, while he digested her words. He swallowed hard and his eyes flickered down to Starling’s lips when she slipped the meat into her mouth. He was transfixed while he watched her chew. She _knew_ and he was overwhelmed; his heart was beating slightly over his usual norm, too fast for him.

Will Graham had figured this out the night he was killed. Of course, Will had seen Lecter’s recipe matching the missing part of the victim’s body, but Starling was the first to guess about the much higher number of his victims. Nobody knew, nobody suspected.

Starling was on the case only few days and she knew – just like that? **_Very_** _unlikely._

“What makes you think so, Agent?” Lecter got up quickly and went over to her, pouring her a little more wine. She nodded her thanks and took a sip before answering. The doctor stayed standing next to her, smiling pleasantly. Nothing gave away the building excitement he felt – and Starling missed how Lecter’s left hand disappeared behind his back, a sharp blade slipping into his palm.

“It just hit me. Liver, kidney, tongue, thymus… I don’t know much about cooking, but I am sure that these are parts used in cooking, Doctor.”

_It just hit her?_ He couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if she was the one playing with him, it was so surreal. “Enlighten me. Why eat them?”

“Free-range animals. He perceives them as the scum of the earth, and to eat them is to show the ultimate disdain he holds for them.” She raised her head then and it was the unsuspecting look in her eyes that made him grin broadly. He let his right hand fall onto her shoulder, the Harpy slipping back into his sleeve.

_Oh, my little cub, how delightful you are._ “Possible. Let’s see the new reports, shall we?”

Agent Starling flinched at the touch again, he smiled more, and with his hand on the small of her back, the good doctor led her back to his library.

“Take a seat, get comfortable, I don’t mind.” He instructed and tended to the dying fire. He heard Starling moving behind him and smiled, piling wood into the fireplace. He wanted the room to get warm and Agent Starling drowsy – and the tranquilizer in her wine might help a tiny little bit with it. It was seven, and there was still enough time to get down to Reedville for the night, but Doctor Lecter hadn’t had any intentions to get there tonight, less so after the delightful dinner they had shared. He didn’t wish to cut his private time with Starling short, quite the opposite, and he so very much fancied the opportunity watching her sleep in his own house, not some uncomfortable hotel room with lingering smells of cheap softener – even though he had booked a very good hotel, Lecter’s standards were higher than most services were able to provide.

When he turned back to Starling, the young agent was lost in his notes again. The updated case file was resting on the sofa next to her and with light footsteps, Lecter reached her.

“May I?”

“Of course, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Agent Starling.”

Lecter sat down and for a few minutes, ten or maybe thirteen, he admired his handiwork cataloged by Jack’s lapdogs. He was certain it had left the right kind of impressions – none of the amateurs Crawford employed were able to analyze it the way Starling had done. The doctor had been showing off, indeed.

He glanced at Starling and was immensely pleased to see that her eyes were closed and her head was resting against the backrest. A few strands of her hair had fallen in her face and the good doctor stored the image in his memory palace – he would draw it later. He slowly got up, then turned the lights off and sat back down. Then he watched her for a long time, the only notable sounds in the quiet room the fire crackling and the sound of their breathing. He was inhaling deeply, in and out, and he felt – content. He would wake her up and offer his spare guest bedroom, or – if he had overdone it with the sedative, he would simply carry her upstairs – but not now. Now he wished to study her sleeping form in the comfortable library, while the shadows danced in her face. She appeared to be from an entirely different world, fragile, and yet terrifyingly powerful, even in her sleep.

His mind again conjured the absurd notion of the two of them sharing one of his more special meals and Lecter smiled, his eyes tracing the soft contours of Starling’s face. It was not so absurd anymore.

_Okey dokey, here we go._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Problem fixed ;)

The first thing Starling noticed when she woke up was the silky softness surrounding her body, the warmth – and when she opened her eyes, the whiteness and light. The morning was the first sunny one after long weeks of only cloudiness and rain.

She closed her eyes briefly savoring the perfect moment of tranquility.

And then she panicked. How the hell had she got there? Where was _there_?

The last clear picture her mind presented to her was of Doctor Lecter’s face and irrationally, she calmed down considerably just because she had seen his strange eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and amusement – there was nothing fishy about it, even if it was exasperating.

She took a deep breath and last night came slowly back to her: his library, the case file, the fire and her drowsiness. She must have fallen asleep, maybe because of the wine? It was pretty strong stuff, Starling was certainly not used to it and after the emotional roller-coaster yesterday, anything stronger than lemonade could have had such an effect on her.

_Well, it_ _’s not like the doctor would drug me._ He was dangerous, no doubt about that, but he just did not strike her as a rapist who needed to resort to this sort of thing. Such behavior was firstly, against his gentlemanly nature, secondly, for a man with money, a silver tongue and good looks, not necessary.

Lecter had tried to wake her up, probably, because she remembered him talking.

“Agent Starling? There is a guest bedroom upstairs. Would you like to stay the night and hit the road tomorrow? Hmm, that would be for the best, I believe. I’d hate to force you into the car and on the road if you are tired.”

She must have agreed but could not remember how she had ended up upstairs and asleep. Not to mention… Starling sat up, horrified, and looked down at her fancy _pink_ and perfectly fitting night gown.

_How embarrassing._

She fell back and closed her eyes. For the briefest of moments, Starling wished she could stay in the bedroom and never have to get up and face the whimsical psychiatrist somewhere downstairs. _Where the hell did he get the night gown, anyway? Better not to think about **that**._

In few moments she was up again and ready to fight any unnecessarily bashful feelings, and the color of her sleepwear was the last thing on her mind. Lecter’s female friends and their forgotten clothes were not her business.

Her travel bag was innocently resting in the corner of the room and she thanked God for small mercies, although she was not particularly happy with the doctor for taking this liberty as well. Ironically, she was more upset by him taking her keys and going to her car than by seeing her naked.

Huffing, she started to search for her toothbrush.

Starling finally wandered downstairs and found Lecter in the dining room. He was waiting for her with a steaming pot of coffee and a light breakfast – some sliced fruit and her favorite pastries. He was as perfect and immaculate as ever and was smiling pleasantly, though his eyes were sparkling with mischief. Today he had chosen to wear somewhat casual white slacks and a dark blue shirt. Over the backrest of his chair was slung a white blazer.

“Good morning, Agent Starling. I hope you had pleasant dreams.” The doctor stood, motioned towards the table and winked as he pulled out her chair for her.

_Yeah, amused as hell._

“I am so sorry, Doctor Lecter, I don’t know what to say…” Her face was red, she was sure.

He laughed then, as if not able to contain himself any longer – it was an unexpected, completely honest, deep chuckle that echoed in the quiet dining room. “Then don’t say anything. I take it as a compliment to my culinary skills, and to my hospitality, my dear. You must have been tired, no doubt.”

“That’s not really helpful, Doctor.” Starling frowned.

“It happens to all of us. Come, sit and eat.” The sparks were still glowing like bright little suns and Starling became annoyed. She would have to get back at him, somehow.

“Not to me,” was her blunt answer. She could not afford it.

They exchanged glances – solemn, serious gazes – and Starling found in Lecter’s eyes something even less expected than his laughter: understanding. She was not that surprised though – the good doctor was a perfectionist and for him, personal failures were unthinkable, just like for her.

“I am the one who should apologize, Agent Starling, I chose the wine. And… I did take liberties with you. I hope you are not offended that I wanted to make sure you would have a comfortable and undisturbed sleep.”

Starling could not stop the second blush but nodded seriously. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you, sir. It seems you take it upon yourself to always see to everything. Right?”

Her tone were not meant to be so biting, alas a little of her irritation seeped through. Lecter turned his head slightly and his jaw set.

He remarked: “It seems so. I take it you have some objections, then.”

“I’m grateful, but I do not appreciate people I am not well acquainted with going through my personal things.”

“Duly noted.”

“You are going to do it again if you decide you should.” Starling observed – there was this light in his eyes that told her everything she needed to know. The doctor would not change his behavior just because she disliked his domineering side and he would do the same again and again; it was in his nature to act this way.

_Macho._ It was now even more understandable why Mr. Crawford had sent her and not some other male agent from the BSU. Lecter would have chewed him out and any cooperation would have turned into a pissing contest – if the doctor had decided to help them at all. With her, well. Whatever this between them was – not just a cooperation of two professionals, that was for sure – it was absolutely, delightfully exhilarating and it kept changing with every passing second.

Lecter grinned and moved his shoulders in what was the beginning of a shrug. He stopped himself as if not willing to act so casually and winked. Then he gave her a long considering glance and slowly revealed his perfect white teeth in a small smile, leaning closer to her. One of his elbows rested on the table, his other hand poured her a cup of coffee.

“Let’s get more familiar with each other, then. Or are we going to be always this formal, Agent Starling?”

Starling didn’t try to lean back in her chair and instead looked up, rising to the challenge. She was still a little startled at how close the doctor managed to get – she could see clearly the laugh lines around his eyes and the mocking one around the left corner of his mouth. He wore a lighter cologne today, less spicy, and it mixed pleasantly with the smell of his aftershave.

“You revel in formality, Doctor.”

Lecter liked to keep his distance, and formalities were just one of the ways to achieve it; it was a defense mechanism Starling easily recognized – she herself used it often because only people close to her could do her any real harm. She almost flinched then when her mind offered her this thought. It was slowly becoming disturbing how many things they seemed to have in common. How easily she had fallen into the pattern of just chatting and bantering after their initial distaste for each other.

_Do I have to have such a rapport with him of all people? Him, really?_

Her mind then jumped to the absurd notion she had entertained last night; it felt like they were two predators of the same kind, maybe in a zoo, suddenly forced to occupy the same space – two individuals very much alike, yet very different. The initial growling and sniffling was successfully behind them, and the playful side of big cats was beginning to show. _What next? Mating rituals?_

She mentally slapped herself and watched instead as he put down the pot and poured a little bit of milk in her cup, stirring it in slow precise movements. No sugar.

“I just can’t see you as the type to hang out with guys drinking beer, watching a football game and chatting about chicks.” Starling needled him and smiled secretly at his reaction.

Doctor Lecter visibly shuddered and blinked as if trying to get rid of the words echoing through his head.

“Well, that is a rather disturbing mental imagine. I can make an exception and chat with you, though. From what I’ve gathered, Jack is hopeful that our cooperation won’t be only a one-time occurrence. I would prefer to be on a more friendly basis with someone whom I could very well meet daily in the foreseeable future.”

“Mr. Crawford can be as hopeful as he wishes. I guess it is up to us if this liaison works or not.” Starling said and took the cup. “Thanks. How do you know how I like my coffee?”

“I noticed in the café.” Lecter smiled and offered her the plate with pastries.

Starling took one silently, nodding her thanks. He must have been paying attention to her from the moment she had stepped into the café to notice that little fact about her. There was no way he could know from their short meeting when her coffee had been almost drunk. The thought of Lecter observing her without her knowledge was still chilling and she frowned. She should never forget that he was dangerous – felines had claws and teeth and their playful little scratching and biting could easily turn into a deadly fight.

When her eyes looked up, she noticed that Lecter must have been watching her bring the pastry to her mouth and now he was thoughtfully staring at her lips. He seemed to be closer than a second ago, if that was even possible. Had he been any other man, she would have thought he was thinking about kissing her. She always guessed when a guy wanted to bed her – her sixth sense worked wonders in more than her professional life – but Lecter was not one of these men.

She raised her eyebrows in question and swallowed.

“Have you eaten already?”

“ _Yeah_.” The doctor seemed unfazed by their proximity and that alone let Starling know he had not been contemplating such ridiculous thoughts. While he was a handsome man and she knew she was what most of males considered desirable, there wasn’t any sexual attraction between them. _There won_ _’t be any cubs from this union, dear zookeepers._

He grinned and leaned back reaching for his coffee. It was black and Starling guessed without sugar.

She ate slowly and the doctor sipped from his cup silently, focusing all of his attention on her. It felt like being under the microscope and she tried not to show any discomfort. She guessed that Lecter’s only reason for doing this was to unnerve her. She _did_ have a degree in psychology.

“What time is it?” Starling asked after few minutes of silence.

“Almost eight.” He said, his gaze never leaving her.

“We should probably get going, right?”

“ _Right_.” Doctor Lecter winked and she, as always, pulled a face.

“You are not going to stop with that, are you?”

“No, it is too much fun.”

“You know, Doctor Lecter, that’s not really nice of you.”

He smiled lazily and crossed his legs, leaning further back in his chair. “I have to inform you, Agent Starling, that I am far from being a nice person. Go ask old Jackie boy.”

Starling sipped the coffee while the doctor watched, expecting her reaction. It was strong, just as she liked it – much stronger than most people would drink – and she hummed in delight at the bitter taste only slightly softened by the little bit of milk. Doctor Lecter was smiling broadly, looking smug and very much pleased with himself. He sure as hell wanted to impress her with his food and drinks.

“I’ve wondered how long it would take you to mention Mr. Crawford again.” She nodded to herself then, glancing at him.

Lecter sat up straighter and stopped smiling. “Excuse me?”

“You know, in some ways, you and Mr. Crawford do fit in those lover’s quarrel roles I’ve mentioned…”

“Now you are being downright cheeky, my dear.”

Unfazed, Starling gave him slight shrug and took the last bite of her pastry. Doctor Lecter rose from the table and headed for the door.

“I’ll get your bag, Agent Starling.” He said stiffly. Grinning, she watched him disappear in the hall, and felt awfully smug herself. _Payment is a bitch, Doc._

Starling slowly finished her coffee and then snatched one wedge of orange, making her way out of the dining room as well. The house was too quiet, as if totally empty, and she listened for Lecter’s footsteps upstairs, but she couldn’t hear anything except her own movements. She slowly wandered towards the wall opposite the front door, studying the decorative small paintings on it. Her attention was captured by large drawing almost hidden in the further corner – anyone casually walking through the hall could easily miss it. It seemed to be misplaced and yet strangely suited for that nook under the staircase.

There was a masterfully drawn picture of some old, and by the look of it European, manor, and she peered at the signature in the left bottom corner: _HL. Did he draw it himself?_

“Your briefcase is in the library, Agent Starling; you might wish to fetch it while I’ll clean the table.” His soft voice came from behind her and the agent swirled around to face him.

Lecter was serious and his face was devoid of expression. He didn’t blink, simply looking at her, and even his eyes were unreadable. She noticed that, this time, he kept the proper distance between them; his playful mood had completely left him. Then his gaze traveled to the wall, something dark passing behind the mask, and he gave her a cold polite smile. “Then we are ready to go.”

“Would you need help, Doctor?” She asked in the same soft tone. For some reason, her looking at the drawing had obviously upset him, and the mood shift and this ominous man standing before her now were making her uncomfortable – she was literally backed into the corner. Her instincts started screaming to do something.

Something preferably _not_ jeopardizing the fragile – dare she think it? – trust that had somehow built between them. Starling was shocked by this revelation and yet knew it was true. She wouldn’t have joked with him like this if she hadn’t been sure she could get away with it and she had the feeling that a very small number of people had the dubious honor of seeing so many sides of the good doctor, let alone in such a short period of time.

He could not hide from her any less than she could hide from him, despite how disconcerting, how _terrifying_ it was. She had observed enough to know he was damaged and hurt and nobody had ever cared – and she understood what it felt like, to be left alone. How eerily they seemed to share the worst of human experience. They understood each other, in some ways, and with this understanding came empathy, and with empathy, trust. Being wary of Lecter was wise, trusting someone who was, or at least seemed to be, of the same sort was almost instinctual. Starling was wise enough to still be wary of him, but her instincts had yet to be proved wrong.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

The moment stretched and Starling examined Lecter’s rigid posture. The best approach would be to retreat. So she moved, stepping around him. He mirrored her movements, his body angled towards her. She heard him take a deep breath and when she glanced up, she saw him relaxing slightly. Those annoying sparks returned to his eyes.

“It won’t take long, Agent Starling.”

“Alright, Doctor. I’ll wait outside.”

“You can wait in the car, if you wish, my dear.” Lecter reached into his pocket for his car keys. “It’s parked in the front of the house. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yeah, ok.” Starling gingerly held out her hand. It must have been only her imagination, but she could swear she had felt him brush her palm and fingers with the tips of his when he had dropped the keys in her hand.

“Ah, and here are yours.” The doctor added and fished out _her_ car keys, his face stretching in a broad playful grin. This time, he left the keys laying on his palm and Starling had to take them, unintentionally touching the warm skin of his hand.

“Why, thanks, Doctor. That’s really generous.” _Bastard_. Yet she was inexplicably glad to see him back to the teasing persona which was only one of the many he had stashed in his mental closet to use and present to the world. God knows she had several of different Starlings in hers.

\---

Lecter hadn’t wasted any time in cleaning when he had left Starling in the dining room. His feet had carried him to the guest bedroom where he had found her travel bag on the bed. It had been packed and ready, though he had noticed that the silky night gown had been carefully folded next to it.

_This wouldn_ _’t do._ He had clicked his tongue and with only a brief sniff at the fabric, he had gleefully packed it inside. He knew Starling disliked the color pink and was very much looking forward to her reaction when she would find it among her things. _Oh, she would bristle!_ And he would love it.

On light feet he had taken it downstairs and outside, putting it in the trunk of his car.

He was more than pleased by his little cub’s reactions that morning and he reveled not in the formalities – as Starling had guessed correctly in every other situation with anyone else – but in the easy rapport they had so effortlessly shared. The process he had decided to undertake was a very delicate one. In the end, and his mind eagerly offered him the mental picture, he might even reveal more of his _true_ nature to the young agent, but he had decided that only bits and pieces were enough for now.

He had a suspicion that the perceptive little birdie had already guessed much more than he was willing to show. She had glimpsed some of his inner demons in the hall.

It did not happen often, this slip of control he had exhibited, and the good doctor was rightfully upset, slightly embarrassed and angry at himself. He would have to take down the picture after returning, and store it in the attic. It was the one drawing of his childhood home he hadn’t wished to relinquish entirely and yet when Starling had been examining it, he had immediately known it would have to go.

It brought back unpleasant memories, a shadow he did not want Starling to see yet. While he was not willing to forget the past, he knew he needed to let it rest, if he had any wish for a future. Lecter was no fool and was aware of his own weaknesses. For the briefest moment, only a heartbeat, he had thought of his sister and gotten lost in the memory of one cold winter day. It had taken the smell of the girl, this unsuspecting little lioness, to bring him back into the present.

He marveled at her scent; Starling smelled of summer and it was pleasantly wafting through the entire house now, somehow dispersing the feel of winter that would always creep into any place he occupied. She would never know, but of course the good doctor was aware of the ‘soulless’ condition of both his office and home, well aware of the coldness seeping from the walls and floors. It perfectly reflected the inside of its owner. Nobody else had noticed and commented on it, though; only his fearless little lion cub had.

And what pleased the doctor even more? Starling had not flinched or retreaded back into her initial distrust and fear even after glimpsing the unpleasant nothingness inside of him. Lecter was rather surprised by the attempt to bring him back. Her change of tone, the shimmer in her eyes, the unconsciously submissive posture – all of it was telling. Starling had started to see the traits they had in common and as a lost young one, naturally started to accept his company, extending her sympathy and understanding.

_But could you truly understand?_

He chuckled and took one last look at his spotless kitchen. He doubted that, although Starling was obviously determined to keep surprising him. They were now in the process of sizing each other up and it was in some ways very liberating – while others knew him as an exceptional conversationalist, with Starling he felt he could talk more freely, the bantering was as easy as breathing. He had enjoyed their teasing thoroughly and hoped for much more verbal sparring to come. Not many people had the wits and gall to keep up with him.

She had started to trust him, no matter how unbelievable it was. It was very different from the so-called trust he had from his vain patients and the outside world. That held no meaning for Lecter; it was easily disposable and replaceable, only an illusion built up on a lie. Normal people expect not to be harmed by their doctors, colleagues at work or strangers in the street and it shocks them when it does happen. Starling expected it, the outcome of years and years of disappointment and hurt. But with him? She was well aware that he was dangerous – oh, he knew that she knew – and yet she chose to believe no harm would befall her in his presence even if he could so, so easily harm her. He hadn’t been the recipient of something like this for years; the simple, innocent confidence of someone who looked and saw, who looked and did not turn away.

Lecter made his way outside, but stilled. Correction: he had _never_ had this kind of trust. She had not shied away from him knowing that he was full of holes, bent and twisted. She was cautious, but not afraid and he hadn’t given her any reason to be disgusted. _Yet_.

He continued, carefully locking the door and breathing in the cold, crisp morning air. His eyes traveled towards his car and Agent Starling sitting inside. He watched amused as she fiddled with the radio, and hoped that she would choose some tolerable station.

She probably felt his gaze, because she looked up, her eyes immediately finding his, and waved at him. She muttered something that was not meant for Lecter to know, but he managed to read her lips: _Get your lazy ass over here, Doc._ That was what she had said and Lecter was not at all offended – he had to fight down laughter as he, with a spring in his step, obeyed Starling’s order.

“Ready to discover the beauties of small fishing towns, my dear Agent?” The doctor asked, fastening his seatbelt.

“Yeah, I’m sure you just can’t wait to see Reedville with your own eyes. So, hit the road, Doctor.” Starling looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, half-grinning. Her smell enfolded him, coaxing a much warmer response than the doctor thought possible – for the second time that morning, he chuckled.

“Aren’t you a little domineering, little Starling?”

“You’re the one to talk.”

Shaking his head, he put the car in drive.

He knew one thing; they had made a connection, he was certain now and slightly consternated by the fact that he had not known _immediately_ , and he knew he would treasure it fiercely. Lecter was not the kind of man to let go once he had something in his grasp. Starling had put herself there, right next to him, and he would very much like to keep her precisely where she was.

The good doctor flinched a little when Starling, asking with her gaze first, switched on the radio and an upbeat rock song begun to play. He was now in unfamiliar territory, he needed to proceed with caution, learn with every step taken forward.

He felt his excitement building, when Starling started to hum along the lyrics. She had a pleasant voice, untrained, but very likable, and her uncensored action showed him that she was feeling comfortable in his presence. He grinned and relaxed in the seat. He didn’t dare predict where this would lead, how it could develop, but he was so looking forward to it.

_It is important to always try new things, isn_ _’t it?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for letting me know about the issue with chapter 4. It’s fixed, so it should be ok, now :)

Starling discovered that even an otherwise boring three hours long drive could be pleasant when the company was right – and the company of Doctor Lecter was shockingly just that. Starling had started to quietly sing along the songs she knew after 20 minutes into the drive, without much embarrassment, and after another 10 minutes, Lecter had joined in, humming. She had found the sound of his voice to have a very calming effect on her. Not that she needed to be calmed… Much. Her thoughts were rather scattered once she was inside the car, and she was mentally going through all the procedures she would need to follow.

“Is this your first official assignment, Agent?”

“Is it so obvious?”

“As collected and confident as you usually are, I’ve detected some nervousness about you. You, my dear, are fidgety.”

“Don’t tell anybody.” She whispered and winked, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She well remembered how she had disliked this man only a few days ago – and now?

_Friendly with Lecter? Crawford would be mortified._ Yet Startling found the whole strange situation comfortable, and as the minutes passed by, natural. The doctor had managed in a few short hours something that had taken Dee three months, eight movie nights and lots of popcorn. He had gotten close to her – right under her skin like a splinter in the flesh of her palm. What was even more disturbing was the fact that Starling’s mind accepted it _so_ easily, accepted _him_ so easily.

“Sure _._ ” Lecter imitated her accent yet again, his eyes never leaving the road, but she was certain he saw her annoyed expression and that was the reason why he started to grin smugly.

Except for singing, there wasn’t much to do in the car but observing each other and she could not help it and glance again at one of his hands – he did have six fingers on his left one. Starling found herself fascinated with it and just could not stop staring when the opportunity arose. Not like last night, or in the morning, when she was focused on different things. There was nothing else to occupy her mind but the doctor.

His long fingers tapped on the steering wheel and his eyes flickered to the outside mirror.

“So we share a dangerous secret now, don’t we, Agent?”

Starling watched him as he observed the traffic situation. The slow blue car in from of them was making the good doctor impatient, and really, she could understand that well. With a car such as his, it was almost impossible to drive slowly.

“Very dangerous, it could ruin my career if somebody knew.”

“Hmm, very intriguing. What are you willing to do to keep it a secret?”

Silence followed and then, without any regret, Starling gave in to her urge to softly hit Doctor Lecter’s shoulder and murmured, “Smartass.”

He didn’t even flinch and his voice became cold. “Now, this is something not many would dare to do.”

“Are you offended?” Starling focused her gaze straight ahead. Their stations in life were quite different – the age difference alone was enough to earn him some respect. Not so long ago, Starling would have been only too happy to offer it, adhere to the expectations of social norms. But she was smarter now, not a naïve trainee anymore. Respect was something people had to earn from her these days.

She had thought that the doctor had been trying to make her more comfortable in his presence this morning. Hadn’t he? She had thought that… Starling didn’t think that she had been wrong. _Why the cold tone, Doc?_

“I very well might be. You are not only cheeky but aggressive towards my person. What am I supposed to make of it?” Hurt entered Doctor’s voice now. Starling turned slightly to watch him from the corner of her eye and saw the amused glint in his. She smirked when Lecter settled comfortably in his seat, and pushed the car over the speed limit, passing the blue snail.

“Nice try, but you don’t have to distract me when you break traffic rules.”

“Ah.” Lecter glanced at her and then conceded. “You are too perceptive for your own good.”

“You should know I’m kind of fond of fast driving myself.” Starling’s tone was conspiratorial but the doctor had seen her car, hadn’t he? It surely didn’t come as a surprise.

“Somehow, I thought you would say that.”

“Somehow, I knew you thought that.”

It should be scary, shouldn’t it? Strangely, it was not. It felt like they had somehow managed to clear the air between them and could be less wary around each other. The idea was far less disturbing than Starling expected, it was almost pleasant.

“Okey dokey, then,” he said lightly. “Note to myself: only distract Agent Starling when committing serious offenses.”

“So that’s why you’ve agreed to play nice with the Bureau.”

Doctor Lecter winked at her and Starling was almost positive that she saw something like fondness in his eyes. “Please, do not tell on me. It would surely hurt Uncle Jack’s feelings.”

The drive continued in the same spirit of light conversation and teasing. Starling found herself enjoying Lecter’s sense of humor – it strangely matched hers, even though the doctor’s was less blunt and more biting.

After arriving at their destination, Starling was ready to go straight to the local police department, but the good doctor insisted on light lunch. If there was one thing Starling was not ever willing to do, it was to get in between Doctor Lecter and his culinary experiences. If he wanted to eat first, she knew he would not let the matter drop until things went his way.

He navigated the small fishing town with expert ease and found the nicest restaurant in the whole neighborhood in a matter of minutes. Starling wondered how the hell he knew where to drive but then she remembered that the doctor had had this trip planned – and he was very thorough in his plans.

Her suspicions were only confirmed when Lecter asked for their reservation. They were promptly seated at a corner table in the back. It was a place Starling would have chosen herself – they could talk privately, they both could look out of the windows, they both had a good view at the front door and they both had a wall behind their backs.

Doctor Lecter seemed awfully smug when Starling was noting all those things and then he offered a small smile.

“Does it meet your approval?”

“It’s perfect.”

The staff was professional and efficient, Starling observed next as she watched the waiter’s back. The doctor was perusing the menu carefully for a few minutes and then he reached for the wine list.

Starling’s eyebrow rose and her lips twitched in amusement. “You do know that we shouldn’t drink on the job, right?”

“Right,” he agreed and she didn’t even bother to react to the way he was mimicking her accent – not anymore. “A glass of good wine would go wonderfully with my meal but you are free to order sparkling water – or perhaps a diet Coke, hmm?”

Starling shook her head and focused on the menu instead of answering. Their lunch was spent in a quiet discussion of their plans for the rest of the day. Starling needed to meet with the local cops, Lecter wanted to talk with acquaintances of the victim. A trip to the crime scene was in order. However, the good doctor wanted to check into their hotel right after lunch. The whole idea didn’t sit well with her. It was bad enough that Lecter had paid for their lunch – she sure as hell didn’t want him to pay for the accommodation.

“I don’t really understand why we have to spend a night here, Doctor Lecter.” She remarked when he had pulled up in the parking lot. “We’ll wrap it up in the afternoon.”

“I like to be prepared, Agent Starling. Don’t tell me you don’t find this fishing town diverting, such sights! Come now, let me take your bag.”

As it had been already stated, arguing with Lecter was pretty much useless. He would do as he pleased, and he didn’t fancy the thought of six hours spent in a car on the same day.

_Well, I can understand that._ She gave him her bag and then watched as he managed to move gracefully despite luggage in both of his hands. He was so light on his feet – like a dancer or a predator. Yeah, he did remind her of a big cat.

With the air of superiority, Lecter marched inside the lobby and right to the front desk. Starling followed closely and rolled her eyes as she observed her surroundings. It was a nice hotel but not quite up to his standards, she supposed. The doctor still stood out a mile as someone from an entirely different league, as if he was an aristocracy among peasants.

Now, that was an interesting thought. Doctor Lecter with his old-fashioned manners and expensive tastes reeked of old money and good breeding. But how could that be? Starling had read up on him and the doctor had seemingly popped up into the existence one fine day, starting his studies in Baltimore. There were no available records on his early life but she knew that his childhood hadn’t been all sunshine and roses, he hadn’t been raised as a privileged little prince. No, the man had been taught some brutal lessons – that was the only explanation to the darkness lurking just under the surface.

Starling frowned as she watched him. His demeanor hadn’t changed at all from the way he was behaving towards her, she noted, but it had a much greater effect on the hotel staff. They just catered to his every whim and judging by his reputation, Starling guessed that it was the usual norm of behavior for most people – they just sucked up to Doctor Lecter like there’s no tomorrow.

_I must be so getting on his nerves._ She grinned to herself and in the exact moment, Lecter turned and his eyes immediately found hers, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. There was no hesitation – he had just looked up, knowing where she standing was in the lobby.

His face was displeased, though, and Starling made her way towards him.

“What’s the problem, Doctor Lecter?”

He was at a loss of words, which was probably the first and only time such a phenomenon had occurred. She watched, fascinated, as he pursed his lips together and then clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“There was an incident,” he said slowly as if he disliked the words coming out of his mouth. Starling’s heart started to beat faster, adrenaline unexplainably flooding her bloodstream. His eyes were burning and the sight evoked in her a strong fight or flight response. Starling had to force herself to listen to him as Doctor Lecter continued, “The plumbing of this place obviously predates the Great War. Two-thirds of the hotel have been flooded. The remaining rooms are already taken, except for the very last one.”

_That’s what upset him?_ Starling blinked, trying to calm her heartbeat. She didn’t doubt that he noticed it, judging by the way his eyes focused on her pulse point briefly.

“Sounds like bad luck, Doctor.”

“You probably didn’t understand me. There is only _one_ room available.” He used his forefinger to emphasize the fact. Starling blinked again, glancing momentarily at the long digit before looking up into his face with a slight frown. She didn’t know what the fuss was about.

“We are forced to share, Agent Starling!” Lecter pointed out prickly. The fury in his eyes dissipated, turning into displeasure – perhaps at her lack of reaction.

“I got it the first time around.” She shrugged her shoulders and found his expression to be hilarious. Doctor Lecter was actually agitated and Starling was enjoying it. The idea of sharing a room was not particularly a pleasant one, but Starling was used to it. As an orphan, she had spent many nights sharing her bedroom with other unfortunate kids and was pretty good at dealing with it. It just meant that she would not be sleeping tonight because there was no way she would be able to fall asleep with a stranger in the same room. However, Doctor Lecter was very uncomfortable with the idea.

“You believe it is acceptable for us, two individuals who only met four days ago, to be forced into a situation in which we will ultimately have to become rather intimately familiar with each other?”

_Oh my, so many big words in one sentence?_ His reaction alone was enough to compensate for the slight discomfort of a sleepless night. Starling could manage – there had been times when she had gone without sleep during particularly grueling exams.

“You are prudish, you know. It’s not like the world is ending. And you already did see me naked, didn’t you?” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. _Karma is a bitch, Doc._

“That’s- It’s-” the good doctor sputtered and fisted his hands around the straps of their luggage. “There was nothing personal, or sexual, and you know it.”

“There won’t be either, right?” She said innocently and she meant it. The doctor’s answer was immediate.

“Of course, Agent Starling!”

“See? So where is the problem? I won’t tell that you wear pink striped boxers under those fancy clothes of yours.” She joked – that was for that nightgown – and was glad that the tension left Lecter’s body, though his eyes remained guarded and anger still radiated from his entire being.

“I would have to kill you otherwise,” he said and a shiver ran down Starling’s spine. Looking at his dark expression, she wasn’t entirely sure that he had been joking. Suggesting now to just drive back to Washington was probably out of question, too. She had already said that she had no problem with sharing a room with him. Backing out now would give the wrong impression, wouldn’t it?

\---

Lecter did not understand how Agent Starling could find amusement in their current situation. They deposited their luggage in the room and the good doctor spent entirely too much time inspecting it. The longer he looked around, the more obvious his distaste became for the birdie tried to placate him.

“It’s a very nice room, Doctor Lecter.”

“Our understanding of the word differs, Agent Starling.” The king-sized bed took most of the space under the window, there was a miniature desk and _no_ sofa. He would have to spend the night on the floor because as a gentleman, he couldn’t accept anything else. Also, the cheap watercolor reproductions on the walls were irritating and tasteless. Lecter pursed his lips and poked his head into the bathroom, switching the light on. His scoff reverberated in the depressingly small space.

Hearing that, Starling offered, “Come on, Doctor, it’s not that bad.”

Releasing a sigh, he supposed that she was right. It certainly was ‘nice’ according to her standards – he would need to work on them. That thought made him smile inwardly. With her cheap shoes and good bag and clothes as fine as an underpaid government employee could afford, there was nothing particularly bad about Starling’s standards. She just didn’t know better, couldn’t know better. It was a pity – such a rare creature deserved so much more.

It would be Lecter’s delight to introduce her to all the finer things life had to offer.

He also detested the fact that Agent Starling was unquestionably amused by his reaction to a said situation which probably made him unreasonably prejudiced against their accommodation. The birdie had teased him about it and undoubtedly had reached the wrong conclusions about why Doctor Lecter disliked the very idea of sharing a room.

He was hardly as prudish as his outburst would suggest. While it was unseemly for two unmarried people who were not in any way romantically involved to share a bed, a part of him was even looking forward to seeing Starling asleep again. It was pleasant to look at her asleep. She was quite beautiful. The doctor was going to enjoy those moments of peace and lock it safely into his memory palace.

Lecter did, however, hate the very idea of being forced to share his personal space with another let alone with someone so dangerous to him. It would leave _him_ vulnerable should he doze off. Lecter was frankly shocked that Starling was comfortable with the fact that she would be letting him see her asleep. He would have expected her to be just as unsettled as he was – she had hated the idea of him going through her car only this morning. Knowing that he was in the same room why she was asleep surely must be upsetting for her.

_So why aren’t you upset, my little cub?_ The answer excited him and Lecter finally shed the last remains of his agitation at the sorry state of their sleeping arrangements. Her trust was a precious thing and he would not betray it if Starling would not betray him first. The longer they spent assessing each other, getting to know each other, the more Lecter was certain than he could avoid that outcome.

The little birdie was responding to him in ways he found exhilarating. She wouldn’t break as poor Will had. No. If Lecter pushed her too much, Starling would not crumble, she would push back. The more he knew about her, the more he wanted to know. Perhaps building a wing in his palace just for Agent Starling was prudent. There were simply too many details about her that he wanted to keep within his treasuries that a single room would soon be insufficient.

If only he could… The doctor’s line of thought ended abruptly and he startled at the fierce yearning which had accompanied it. He glanced at her. Starling was watching him with exasperated affection, waiting for another sign of his displeasure as if they had been through the same procedure a million times before.

He could visualize scenarios of their future field trips. Starling’s amused snorts of laughter and her teasing in that drawl of hers: “Come on, Doc, I know it’s in a plastic cup but it’s still caffeine. Let’s get going.” Or: “The food’s not poisoned, eating it won’t kill you.” His favorite would be something like this: “See those sloppy cuts, Doc? We’re dealing with an amateur here.”

She had, after all, complimented his knife work and Lecter was not going to forget that. He couldn’t entirely predict her, of course, but he was sure that his imagination wasn’t too far from reality. In his mind, he could hear the words echo in her voice, he could visualize them not only on field trips like this one. Oh, and how pleasingly whimsical the other scenarios were!

Nurturing her tastes, seeing to broadening her horizons… Perhaps she would find pleasure in opera and classical music and they could share that enjoyment. Or perhaps not. There was always food and Starling was intelligent enough to keep up with him in other areas of Lecter’s interests dealing with their professional careers if nothing else.

“Is there something you want to say, little Starling?” he asked her. Her eyes sparkled but she shrugged. There was plenty she had to say to him, the doctor had no doubt.

“Come on, Doctor, let’s get going. It will take your mind off this.”

_Ah, that was almost perfect_. He had captured the intonation just right. The thought pleased him and Lecter nodded, gesturing for Starling to precede him through the door. The good doctor took care to breathe her in deeply. There was no need to do so, she wasn’t distressed, she hadn’t reapplied her perfume or changed clothes. He simply found pleasure in the mixture of her natural, relaxing scent and the cosmetics she used.

Doctor Lecter found a great amount of pleasure in Clarice Starling – his little lion cub, his witty little birdie, his dear wolf clothed in the skin of dumb, tedious sheep. _Will you shed it, my precious cub? Or will I have to cut it off for you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first of the new ones. The next is coming as soon as it’s finished which shouldn’t take long. Thank you for your comments and kudos! See you around ;)


End file.
